


Mortal Taste

by sailorvenusgold



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Priests, Blasphemy, M/M, Prostitution, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Slut Shaming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-02
Updated: 2018-11-02
Packaged: 2019-08-05 13:06:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16368200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sailorvenusgold/pseuds/sailorvenusgold
Summary: Minseok's not the sort of person that Sehun should be thinking about, but thoughts of him torment and plague him into anguish.





	Mortal Taste

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger Warnings:  
> \- blasphemy  
> \- slut shaming  
> \- prostitution  
> \- the Church

Jongdae’s voice rings out, high and clear, commanding the attention of the congregation as he reads aloud from the second chapter of Joshua.

Sehun likes it when Jongdae reads. He’s devout and spirited enough that it happens with good frequency, and he’s a clear favourite among the members of the parish. Looking out now, Sehun can see how Jongdae’s managed to charm his flock with just his golden voice: the women listen keenly and watch him with even more fervour, the children effortlessly quiet and still, and even the men are not impervious to the pull of Kim Jongdae’s words.

All, it seems, save for one.

Sehun’s eyes stop in their path to fix on one particular person with pretty red lips and pretty black eyes that peer back, hoping to provoke him.

This is the third time Sehun’s seen Kim Minseok in his church, the third time he’s sat over there on the ninth pew, the third time he’s spent an entire hour fluttering his thick lashes in Sehun’s direction, driving his blood hot with anger and desire.

He knows what Kim Minseok does from salacious gossip and confessions and so he knows that Kim Minseok is a whore, spreading his legs for those who have the means to afford him, and sucking and licking any eager cock with his wicked mouth.

Sehun drags his attention back to Jongdae, now leading in the singing of the psalm, resolute in his will in depriving Minseok of _his_ attention. He’s here for the truly repentant, not the sinful who only wish to seduce him (a man of God!) and fulfil their own mortal taste for the most carnal pleasures.

It doesn’t help that at communion, just like the other two times, Minseok comes up to him, almost angelic with his hands folded in prayer if it weren’t for his little pink tongue stuck out, poised to devour the Eucharist from Sehun’s own fingers, like some living succubus invading his sacred sleep.

“The Body of Christ,” Sehun says, presenting the wafer.

Minseok looks into his eyes and smirks. An _Amen_ is uttered before he takes the offered wafer, enveloping the tips of Sehun’s index finger and thumb between his soft lips.

This lasts for less than a second, but Sehun is stunned at the other’s audacity and burns at his own receptivity to Minseok’s act of indecency.

The whore bites his lip, then he’s gone and Sehun is left to quickly pick up what’s left of his dignity before he has to service another parishioner, an elderly woman who would not have been taken with the scene that had just occurred prior.

Of course, Minseok—the _slut_ —doesn’t stop there.

After Mass, Sehun takes to standing by the door, bidding them goodbyes or talking with them if they liked, a habit he’d formed after serving as the deacon of his previous church, watching the easy relationship between the priest and his congregation. After two Masses, Minseok’s picked up on this, and he waits, patiently sitting in his spot on the ninth pew until he’s the only one that Sehun hasn’t seen out.

“Good morning Father,” Minseok greets, flashing a toothy grin. Sehun doesn’t miss the gleam in his eyes. “I just wanted to thank you for your time, with _me_ especially. I bet I’d be a _real_ piece of work for someone like _you_.”

And, with two of his soft little hands, Minseok takes Sehun’s right hand and presses his lips plush against the back of it. Sehun is too stunned to draw his hand back.

“Goodbye Father, and thank you,” is all Minseok leaves him with before he steps out onto the path and walks out of the black gates.

As soon as Sehun is sure Minseok has walked enough of a distance away from the church, he sends home the altar servers and any other volunteers left, personally seeing off the last few stragglers and closing the gates after. No one should be searching for him so soon after Sunday Mass.

He stalks the distance to his priory, locking and bolting his front door before making his way to his bedroom, feverish hands tearing away at his vestments until what he has left on are his parted cassock and trousers—too impatient to press any further—from which, with his right hand, he frees his cock out, thick and already hard and leaking with precum.

It’s easy to imagine Minseok with his shameless lips that would part so quickly for him, and that’s what Sehun does as he fists his length, and so it’s those lips, swollen and slick with saliva that he pictures wrapped around his cock, slowly bobbing up and down, savouring Sehun’s taste and the way he stretches the bow of Minseok lips.

He thinks about how his clever little tongue would trace the sensitive skin as he takes Sehun deep down his throat (he’d be such a professional), moaning lewdly and trying to swallow around the thick erection in earnest before Sehun would grip Minseok’s dark locks and thrust further into his throat. He’s so desperate for the heat that Minseok could so readily offer as he imagines fucking that sweet mouth with abandon; Sehun reckons that the slut could take his roughness, enjoy it even as his girth stretches his throat and makes him gag and flush with the effort.

It’s finally the image of Minseok looking up at him, peering at him past his delicate lashes, just as he had done earlier at communion, tearing up as he chokes on his cock that has his hand jerking cock faster and rougher until he shudders and comes hard with a shout, spilling come over his fingers and clothes.

As soon as he recovers, he wrinkles his nose in disgust, peeling off his dirtied vestments—he’ll have to burn them now—and walking over to his bathroom to clean up, scrubbing away at his hand to forget what had happened just before.

Sehun is irritated at himself, and ashamed, for falling for temptation as clear as Kim Minseok, but he reasons with himself that it’s better than seeking him out for sex.

This way, he hasn’t broken any of his vows yet.

 

 

 

As a priest, Sehun’s responsibilities extend past weekly masses, and these include running confession on Mondays and Fridays. He gets a number of penitents—the small minority who actually look for atonement—but the rest are paranoid or vain or would simply like to be in his presence, continuously, for five minutes of their day. No one is particularly interesting or, Sehun thinks, even forthcoming, and so the majority of the penances are restricted to three minor Hail Marys.

This week is no different. The first to see him is a semi-frequent visitor, Kim Jongin, whose sin had been to oversleep and miss Mass the day before.

Sehun had raised a brow at this and had been sorely tempted to tell him to get the hell out of the confessional, but Jongin’s good looks had always been an asset to the church, even before the time Sehun had been ordained—when he himself had been jealous of Jongin, just before he became a man of God and thus was above such earthly trivialities. Nevertheless, Jongin drew in a sizeable crowd of young adults who liked to fawn over him, and yesterday, his absence _had_ been noted. Jongin had to be taught a lesson.

“Five Hail Marys,” Sehun decrees, “and, maintain control over your bod, so we don’t repeat this—after all, Sloth is one of the deadliest sins.”

Jongin’s gasp tells him he’s taken this to heart.

“Thank you, Father—I promise you’ll see me here next Mass,” Jongin says, before shuffling out of the booth.

The next of the culprits is Kim Joonmyeon, who had led the Christian Youth group when Sehun was a teenager. Even now, he stands out as one of the most devout members of the laity, and makes a habit of coming to confession when his work permits, at least twice a week. This is his second visit in a fortnight, a sign that something eats at his mind.

Sehun, in his interest, sits closer to the screen.

“Father, I know you’re here to listen to anything, but please don’t judge me for this,” Joonmyeon says.

“I can’t judge you—only God has that privilege,” Sehun replies.

“Yes, well, there’s someone I’ve been thinking of—in an inappropriate manner. Impure thoughts,” he begins. “He doesn’t deserve it—no one does—but Jongdae, above all—he’s too good.”

Sehun grimaces, almost sounding out his disgust. He can’t believe that Joonmyeon would direct his lust towards, of all people, Jongdae, so kind and loving and like a mother even to Sehun. At least, Joonmyeon’s correct about one thing—Jongdae _is_ too good for him.

“I think this has been building up for a while, and I find myself watching him and thinking about him, especially at—”

“—You don’t have to continue,” Sehun interrupts. “Now, for you to feel the gravity of your lust for Jongdae, say thirty Hail Marys.”

“Is that all?” Joonmyeon asks.

Sehun, at this moment, recalls Joonmyeon’s wealth and the Lord’s teachings on such matters. “If your conscience is still not clear then, perhaps consider making donations to the church. However, this is a suggestion, just if you feel that this penance is not enough.

“Okay, thank you father,” Joonmyeon’s voice sounds lighter than it had before, and Sehun feels the thrill of excitement thrumming in his gut. “I’ll take on your suggestion. Goodbye!”

“Goodbye,” Sehun says, hoping to hide the glee in his voice as he listens to Joonmyeon leave.

He’d never gauged Joonmyeon’s feelings for Jongdae—in fact, he’d thought that the feelings were directed the other way around as he’d often noted what he had thought was Jongdae’s crush on the older man, as he had often kept close to Joonmyeon at whatever meetings and volunteering sessions Joonmyeon had the time to attend.

Now, with the revelation that Joonmyeon’s had all sorts of desires for Jongdae and the notion that he’d attended largely for Jongdae, Sehun wonders that, if Joonmyeon were to act out on his lust, he’d certainly make larger donations.

Other penitents that week are no more ridiculous. Zhang Yixing arrives later that day to confess a thorough list of, not sins, but small slipups which Sehun, not wanting to offend, forgives anyway with the promise of one Hail Mary. On Friday, best friends Park Chanyeol and Do Kyungsoo take their turn to make confession, with Chanyeol confessing that he was checking out his arms in the reflection of store windows until he hit a sign post, and Kyungsoo for hitting Chanyeol immediately after that said incident.

Friday afternoons also bring the Confirmation classes that Jongdae leads, and out of convenience, Jongdae too takes penance straight after. Sehun waits for him, patient, in the confessional.

“Hello Father,” Jongdae greets after Sehun hears the rustle of the curtain. “I’m afraid that… this confession, is a grave one. More than the others, I think.”

Jongdae laughs a little but his voice is heavy with the toll of whatever he’s done, and cracks peer through his usual melodic voice.

Sehun frowns, worried and uneasy—Jongdae has always been giving and kind, even naively so—but he reassures Jongdae, encouraging him to be open, and reminding him that nobody was privy to their conversation but God.

Sehun hears a shaky sigh behind the partition and he’s anxious that Jongdae will leave, and carry out with him this heavy burden to bear alone on his back, but Jongdae agrees to divulge.

“I’ve read the Bible, several times, familiarised myself with both the Old and the New Testaments. I know we’re not supposed to judge _them_ , and I know they’ve played an important role in Christ’s genealogy and life. This is information I’ve been reassuring myself with.” Jongdae takes a moment to breathe. “I’ve been seeing a sex-worker.”

Sehun is stunned, but for Jongdae’s sake, he pulls himself together.

“Seeing?” he asks.

“Not at first. I’d met him at a bar when I was out with some friends, and that first time was the only time I’d paid for—well.” Jongdae pauses, then continues. “After that time, I just kept seeing him around, and I thought, if God hadn’t meant for me to know him, that time should have been the last time. So, we started talking and meeting up and everything felt so natural, like we were made for each other.

Sehun, has an inkling that he knows exactly who Jongdae is talking about, and he tries to ignore the heavy beating of his heart (he’s worried Jongdae can hear it), the gnawing ache in the pit of his stomach as he tries to escape the thoughts of the two of _them_ enjoying themselves together.

But in the dark of the confessional and in the trappings of his own mind, the images of Jongdae and _Minseok_ are so clear, burning into his vision and so he doesn’t stop himself from telling Jongdae to break whatever thing they have together off.

“If this situation’s been affecting you like this, I think it’s best you stop seeing him.”

Jongdae sits quiet for a bit, but then, responds. “You’re right. I guess, loneliness was really taking a toll on me—I must not have been in the right mind.”

Sehun hums in agreement. “It’s natural, temptation. They’re tests for God to judge our character. What matters not is if we are impervious, but how we handle it—we are human after all.”

“Yes. Yes, of course, thank you so much!” If Jongdae is disheartened, he tries not to let it show, sounding as bright as usual.

Sehun prescribes him the whole five decades on the Rosary, and sends him on his way, hoping that with Jongdae, his jealousy leaves too.

 

 

 

Scanning the ninth pew from the front, Sehun sees that Minseok has broken his pattern. On the fourth Sunday since Minseok’s started coming to church, he’s absent—instead, handsome and sleepy Kim Jongin sits in his place.

If this affects Jongdae, Sehun isn’t able to see it. Even is he _was_ still upset, Sehun could always direct his eye to Joonmyeon, who he sees is still quite taken with Jongdae.

He tries not to roll his eyes in the middle of the offertory when he sees Joonmyeon’s hand engulf Jongdae’s as he passes the elder the collection basket. Still, Sehun does suppose that Joonmyeon _is_ a more fit companion for Jongdae than Kim Minseok—if not, he has the ability to serve as a distraction in the very least.

This Mass runs smoother than the previous three, thanks to the lack of a teasing whore. There’s no one to provoke him with plump lips, soft skin, and round-sharp eye measuring his every move, waiting to prey on his weaknesses. He can focus on the words of the prayers and the hymns, the melody of the organ and the murmurs of the crowd echoing against walls flushed with gold.

However, while he may not see Minseok at Mass, thoughts of him—wonderfully charged, torrid visions—plague him, for what else could a whore be doing on a Sunday morning?

The idea that Minseok could be elsewhere, in a bed, pleasuring or lying with other men, rattles him, and sticks to him like sweat well into the night.

Rage and lust and envy rush through his veins, consuming him so even in his sleep that all of his dreams feature Minseok. That entire night, Sehun only sees Minseok writhing under him and begging for more as he gasps with each of Sehun’s thrusts, or he’s above him and bouncing on his big, thick cock, giggling and squealing in delight as Sehun grips his hips hard, or he’ll have Minseok on his hands and knees, gripping his sheets as Sehun pounds into him, all while he cries for Sehun and his God.

 

 

 

Almost an entire week passes and Sehun is still tormented by images of Minseok, all filthy and sinful and white hot; he’s never been more convinced that Minseok is a demon.

No matter how hard he scrubs his skin in the shower, or how long he’s on his knees in prayer, or how deep he digs his rosary into his fingers, Minseok is still there, he still persists in his mind and now worse—Jongdae has usurped his place in some of his dreams.

Sehun doesn’t care to think about _those_ ones more than necessary.

Especially not today, on a Friday of all days, when he has to see Jongdae and try to act civil, controlling his jealousy and rage.

He’s been invited to the confirmation session today to talk about the process during the Mass and to quell any doubts or fears coming from the teens, as well as give any general advice.

He makes it far, not having confronted Jongdae about the incident, or revealing any sort of resentment against him for something he’s already resolved, but then, Sehun sees _him_ through the glass door, wandering around.

Minseok’s eyes meet his.

Sehun’s out of the meeting room before Minseok can even make a step towards him, and he leads him out behind the church, far from Jongdae and the kids, and far from the prying eyes of the parents waiting to pick them up.

Minseok tries to wrangle away from Sehun, like a spirited cat, but Sehun’s grip is tight on his arm—he’s the one who has the most to lose from this interaction after all.

“Let go of me!” Minseok spits out. “I need to talk to Jongdae.”

Sehun scowls, levelling Minseok enough that the other stills. “No. I told him—”

“I _know_ you told him to dump Baekhyun, which is why _I’m_ here to fix this shit,” Minseok replies. He glares, defiantly at Sehun. “You shouldn’t have gotten involved.”

Sehun blinks at him. “Baekhyun? Who the fuck is Baekhyun?”

Minseok narrows his eyes, scowling at Sehun as if he’s the most detestable thing on earth. Sehun doesn’t quite think this is an apt judgement for someone like Minseok to make.

“ _Baekhyun_ is the guy Jongdae was seeing _and_ my best friend. And colleague,” Minseok says. “And you should watch your language—aren’t you a man of God? What would God think about your foul mouth? He’s watching you right now."

“I don’t think you’re one to talk,” Sehun spits out. He’s seething—he can feel his blood boil and his breathing getting tense—but he tries to maintain his composure.

Minseok’s face drops at his remark before he picks it back up again, fluttering his lashes at him and smiling prettily, his lips as red as blood.

“I’m allowed aren’t I? I’m not a priest like you, I haven’t made such promises. God’ll take that into account, when it’s our time,” he says.

“But,” Minseok continues, stepping closer towards him, “you’ve done worse haven’t you? You haven’t even been keeping your promises. I’ve been watching you long enough to know what you think of me.

“The way you look at me in Mass, the way your eyes devour me, the way your eyes get darker and darker the more you see me. You probably don’t even notice the way you stare at me, but I do. You’re obsessed with me. You think you hate me because I’m a whore, but really, all you wanna do is fuck me into the ground just like all of the other guys who’ve been with me.”

Sehun looks away at the sky and grits his teeth, resolute in standing his ground and not giving Minseok such satisfaction. “No. You’re wrong. I don’t want that.”

Minseok gives him a sharp grin, stepping forward to back Sehun up against a wall. “Of course you do. I know you better than you know me. I’ve been looking at you too, and I know you, more than anything, want me stretched around your cock.”

Sehun chances a look down into Minseok’s eyes. He sees nothing but sin—and it’s everything he wants.

Minseok clutches at Sehun’s shoulders, pressing himself flush against the other, against the tent in his trousers.

“I could give this to you for free. You’re not like the other guys—I’ve wanted you too.”

That breaks the dam for Sehun, who grabs Minseok’s hand and leads him to his priory just nearby.

As soon as he locks the door, Minseok’s all over him and giggling at his eager hands and lips. Sehun’s desperate to map out his entire body and to brand his own heat and touch all over Minseok’s skin, so no one else but him comes to mind.

Sehun leads them over to the bedroom and pushes Minseok down onto the bed, peeling his sweater off his body and sucking and bruising memories of himself onto Minseok’s skin. Minseok quivers as Sehun’s lips brush against a sensitive nipple, and he keeps Sehun’s head there, desperate for the contact.

“This really does it for you huh?” Sehun quips as his long fingers tweak at Minseok’s other nipple, inciting a lewd gasp.

“Yes! Please don’t stop,” Minseok breathes.

Sehun smirks and sucks the bud into his mouth, tongue curling around it and tugging gently with his teeth before repeating on the other side.

“You _are_ a slut,” Sehun reprimands. “I haven’t even touched your dick yet and I’ve already got you begging and whining for me.”

Minseok, in his defiance, flips them around so Sehun’s the one on his back, stunning him with his strength.

“Maybe I’m begging for your forgiveness,” Minseok smirks as he trails his fingers down Sehun’s torso, pulling off his collar and unbuttoning his black shirt, tossing that too in some dark recess of the room. “I _have_ made you suffer _so_ , so much—or maybe I’m begging for salvation by doing this good deed for you.”

Minseok moves further down, so his hands are at Sehun’s hips. He doesn’t tease him here—he’s just as hungry as Sehun in his lust-driven mania that he’s yanking at his belt and practically tearing off his trousers and boxers, greedy to meet his reward.

Minseok gasps as he sees Sehun’s erection, red and thick and hard against the planes of his stomach; he’s just as keen in real life as he is in Sehun’s dreams.

“It’s so big,” Minseok swallows, “the biggest I’ve had.”

Sehun’s pride swells at that, but it’s easily overshadowed by the heat in his stomach as Minseok takes him into his mouth. He has to bite on his fist to keep from crying out.

The thought of Minseok’s mouth being just as sinful as it looks passes through Sehun’s mind as he feels Minseok’s plump lips curl around his shaft, bobbing up and down, and his clever, mischievous tongue pressing incessantly against the thick vein on the underside. Minseok’s tongue halts, and then he’s trying to deepthroat his entire length, ambitious and capable and delightfully obscene.

Sehun’s fingers grasp at Minseok’s hair, guiding him further and further along, fucking into his hot, wet throat, until Minseok’s gagging and then he pulls Minseok away from his cock—slowly—watching the way saliva and his precum cling to his red lips.

They stare at each other, hunger meeting hunger.

Minseok hastily removes the rest of his clothes and settles on his back, parting his legs and offering himself to the man in front of him.

“There’s lube in my front jean pocket,” Minseok remarks, “the right one.”

Sehun nods, grabbing for the little bottle, and settling himself in between Minseok’s pale thighs.

His hands, his breath, his entire being shakes at the prospect of doing the one thing he’s so desired, one of the things he’s forbidden from doing—and with Minseok of all people, corruption and temptation personified. He’s almost willing to back out, willing to return to his state of mind before, so willing to suffer in torment because of the gravity of the situation before him, until Minseok stills him, laying a soft hand on his wrist.

He says nothing, only looks up at him beneath his dark eyelashes and Sehun is reminded of succubae, of Lilith, of _Eve_ —if he takes a bite now, he’s doomed himself forever.

But if Minseok is Eve, he himself is Adam, and they are of the same body—they are one, made for each other.

And they’ve already doomed everyone else anyway.

Sehun runs his hands up and down Minseok’s thighs, his eyes devouring the way Minseok shivers and sighs just for him, before he leans down to press kisses and bites at the unblemished skin. He’s sure to leave pink and purple all over his pretty thighs.

His lips continue down to the plump flesh of Minseok’s ass, and continue to his pert little hole, already twitching in anticipation of Sehun’s next actions.

He stills, waiting to draw an impatient whine from Minseok, before his tongue meets Minseok’s hole, eliciting a delighted gasp from the smaller man. Sehun pulls back and smirks, before spitting in between his cheeks and laving the area with his tongue, turning and twisting and teasing enough to have Minseok panting and pushing back against his tongue.

Sehun hums against him, before spreading his cheeks and pushing his tongue into Minseok’s tight heat, relishing the way he squeals and grabs his hair and rocks back onto his face, desperate for the contact.

“You’re so good Sehunnie,” Minseok begs, “more, please!”

Sehun pulls away and grabs the bottle of lube, flipping the cap and squeezing a generous amount on his fingers, before returning to his place in between Minseok’s legs.

He slides a finger in, tentative, and watches Minseok suck in a breath. With no protest, he pumps the finger in and out, adding another when Minseok pleads for more. He stretches him with two, then three, acting against the action of Minseok clamping tight onto his fingers. For this, he punishes him by curling his fingers against his prostrate, savouring Minseok’s cries as he does this again, and again, and again, until he too has enough of his own ministrations.

Once he knows Minseok is sufficiently stretched out, Sehun slicks up his own cock with more lube, and presses forward into Minseok.

It’s hot and sinful and wicked, and it’s more than anything Sehun could have dreamed. He moves slowly, in and out, conscious of Minseok’s comfort, but it’s difficult to maintain such composure, when all he’s wanted to do for so long is to pin him down and have him screaming.

“You’re so tight for a whore,” Sehun grits out, groaning as Minseok clenches around him purposefully.

“I’m selective, I like the ones who are challenges,” Minseok says cheekily. “Besides, you’re the one who’s so big and thick,” he bites his bottom lip here, “you’ll split me in half.”

Sehun grips his hips, thrusting hard enough inside him to have Minseok whining. “I _will_ split you in half,” Sehun groans, “and I’ll ruin you for everyone else.”

Minseok breath hitches at that and he invites him to the challenge, pushing his ass back against him and sinking onto his cock until Sehun gets the message to finally _move_. Sehun sets a faster and rougher pace, which doesn’t relieve Minseok enough so he goes even faster and rougher, frantic, fucking hard into a wailing Minseok, who digs his nails into Sehun’s back to urge him forward, desperately begging Sehun for release and reprieve.

Sehun thrusts into him at a particular angle, one that has Minseok wailing and meeting Sehun halfway, rocking wildly against his hips. One of Sehun’s hands leave Minseok’s waist and move to his dick instead and, using whatever lube’s left on his fingers, he jerks him off to the rhythm he’s fucking him in until Minseok’s wailing and seeing stars and arching his back high off the bed, with his cum spilling onto both of their stomachs.

He continues to fuck a now boneless Minseok who takes to lazily wrapping his arms around his neck, pulling him in closer and gasping with each of Sehun’s thrusts out of the sensitivity his orgasm. Sehun growls at the spasming of Minseok’s hole, pulsing and gripping around his cock, before he too comes with a cry from all the heat and pressure in his gut, buried deep inside of Minseok’s tight heat, milking him until Sehun's cum leaks from in between Minseok’s thighs.

They lay, Sehun’s face buried into Minseok’s neck, and arms and legs intertwined, drifting to sleep like that.

 

 

 

The next day, Sehun leaves to see his bishop, determined to resign.

**Author's Note:**

> The title is taken from Paradise Lost which is fitting because John Milton is horny on main for Satan! It describes the biting of the fruit which is very comparable to a paragraph in here... *eyes emoji*
> 
> I've also taken the liberty to use exo members to represent the deadly sins - see if you can guess which ones! I wasn't clever enough to intentionally do all but I might have even done some inadvertently which will be a pleasant surprise ^-^
> 
> There's also a number of religious references, both as symbolism and within the writing itself - some are obvious and some aren't and I'm kind of interested to see if they were visible I suppose
> 
> Thank you for reading!! xxx


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